


The Mineral Town Tales Collection

by AccidentallyTheWholeFanfic



Category: Harvest Moon, Harvest Moon: Back To Nature, Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst, Character studies, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, General, Humor, Marital Strife, Multi, One-Shots, Romance, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccidentallyTheWholeFanfic/pseuds/AccidentallyTheWholeFanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of prompt-based shorts about the people of Mineral Town, with a focus on some of the more underappreciated characters. Each short is written in a half-hour or less, based on selected words suggested by the readers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone

Monday morning sunlight danced through the windows of the Welvin household and its adjoining library, painting each of its residents in a soft, dappled glow. Each alone, each mired in their own thoughts.

Anna Welvin wiped her flour-smeared hands on her apron, slumping in her chair as she thought of what to do with the time she had while the cookies baked. The flowers had already been watered, the bushes were pruned, and her husband...

She sighed. Basil still loved her - she knew that. Every time their eyes met, no matter how casual and routine the occasion, she still saw how his gaze warmed. It always made her heart do somersaults, twenty-one years later. All the same, sometimes she wondered if he even realized all his research, his enthusiasm for botany, was eating into their time together.

Anna wasn't the sort of lover who had to be in the heat of passion or by her love's side at every second. Still, she missed making love to Basil nearly every night - now she was lucky if it was once a week. But she couldn't bear to tear him from his dream - even for a second. For all the regret she harbored, she refused to be an unsupportive wife.

_And if it can help Lillia... and here I am, worrying about sex. Sex! He wants to save one of my dearest friends..._

Anna kneaded her temples with her knuckles. Her head always did hurt so badly when she got into this mood - a tug-of-war between morality and honesty, knowing she felt childish, but still scared that the passion and fire were slowly draining from her marriage, even though she knew in her heart that Basil would never leave her, and never stop loving her.

Still, she turned a longing gaze toward the staircase leading up to their bedroom. What were a few lost minutes, a lost hour, a lost day of research, just to be touched again, to feel sexy, to feel like the most beautiful woman, the  _only_ woman, in the world?

Lives. Health. Happiness.

Shaking her head roughly in order to clear her thoughts, Anna searched desperately for something around the kitchen to help shift her focus. The dishes in the cupboards weren't all facing the same way. That would keep her occupied for a few minutes. And perhaps a lavish cake was in order... Basil's birthday would be in two days, after all. He always did appreciate the hard work Anna put into her elaborate decorations. It sometimes took hours to get the frosting just right. And the frosting would necessitate a trip to the grocery store.

Sealing away her loneliness to be dealt with at some other time, Anna got up and adjusted the oven's settings so that the cookies wouldn't burn during her trip to the store. Looking over her shoulder to gaze at the staircase once more, she sighed. They would be okay. Wouldn't they?


	2. Relax

Kai MacMerick surveyed the Snack Shack with a frown. He could clearly see a few of Mineral Town's residents outside on the beach, playing a rather spirited game of volleyball. Karen Clark was laying on her stomach, bikini top off, soaking up the warmth and light of the summer sun, no matter how futile her attempts at a tan were. He knew the housewives of Mineral Town were gossiping by the beach entrance.

Nobody, however, was actually inside. This bothered him. Six straight days of nothing wouldn't cut it. He tossed a few frozen burger patties on the skillet, switched the burners on, and hurried around the little shack, nudging each window up a tiny notch. If the smell of delicious hamburgers sizzling on the skillet didn't draw somebody in, he'd eat his bandana.

Kai was by no means a shy person - had he felt like it, he'd have gone outside himself to bellow for customers, subsequently get drawn into the volleyball game, and completely forget about the Snack Shack, losing potential profits for the day. One or two days of this would be fine, maybe, but not a whole week. That was too much relaxation, even for him.

"Doesn't anyone eat in this damn town anymore?" he grumbled quietly, drumming his fingers on the counter as he anxiously awaited the sight of someone walking up to the door.

Twenty minutes later, as the finished burgers were being kept warm in the oven, Kai finally got his wish. A tiny jingling bell snapped him out of his stupor, and, hastily wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth, he waved to Gray Smithson. "Finally! Business! What's up, man?"

Gray's usual frown gave way briefly to a quick smile, and he nodded to his friend. "Got any shrimp?"

"I can have some ready. Lemon butter?"

"Yep." Gray took a stool at the counter and drummed his knuckles on it. "Slow day today."

Kai nodded and rolled his eyes. "Slow  _week_. You're the first person to come in here since Saturday! ...Wait..." He slapped his forehead. "That  _was_ you last Saturday! Geez..." He dumped the shrimp on a new skillet. "Glad to have you here, anyway. Your old man let you out early?"

Gray snorted. "I didn't give him much of a choice. I stormed out. He was on my ass about some earrings Rick wanted made for Popuri's birthday. 'She's so pretty, a pretty girl shouldn't be given such a shitty-looking gift'. Rick thought they were great!"

Kai nodded sympathetically. He'd been there with his parents far too many times to count. Except... "Did you at least say something this time?"

No answer. Gray cast his eyes downward, and Kai shook his head.

"Dude, you're never gonna get him off your case if you keep clamming up and running off." He sprinkled lemon juice on the shrimp in the skillet, and continued, "Even if standing up for yourself doesn't get him off your ass entirely, better than letting him know he's getting to you all the time."

"He's not getting to me all the time!" Gray snapped defensively. Then he hummed low in his throat and shook his head rapidly. "What am I saying? Of course he is! I dunno... I mean, I have to work with him everyday. It's tense enough as it is."

"You like having dignity, don't you?" Kai asked bluntly. "Fuck tension, man. If he can't accept that you have a spine and want to be treated fairly, screw him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

Gray sighed and nodded, watching as Kai slid the plate of gleaming shrimp in front of him. "Maybe you're right."

"Definitely."

Gray gave a small, rare laugh. "I'll consider it. That's as good as I can do for now."

Kai nodded. "Then  _I'll_ just stay on  _your_  ass until you finally listen. Deal?" He stuck out his hand.

Gray took it and they shook. "Deal." Then he looked around and lowered his voice: "I don't want anyone to hear me saying this, but... umm... thanks for listening, Kai. You're a good friend, you know."

Kai nodded, clapping a hand on Gray's shoulder. "Of course. You still have to pay, though."

Gray's shoulders slumped as he grabbed his fork. "Crap. Okay, okay, fine. I'll remember to bring my wallet next time, hardass."

"Same time next week?" Kai called over his shoulder as he washed the skillet off.

Gray chewed thoughtfully, then rapped his fork on the counter. "Maybe sooner."

"Works for me. You take care, alright?" he called as Gray left. The door swung closed and Kai's sigh mingled with the bell. Back to the regular silence and solitude of any other day. With a half-hearted shrug, he began to close up shop early, hoping he wouldn't be too late to join the small party now going on on the beach.


	3. Bed

May Yodel stared blankly at the tombstone, unable to take in its inscription:

_Joanna Yodel_

_Beloved Mother and Daughter  
Her Spirit Shall Live In Us_

The little four-year-old girl looked up at her grandpa, who had tears running down his face. His lips were trembling, and his hands were shaking.

"I don't understand."

Barley looked down at May, a mix of sadness and kindness in his milky eyes. "Your mommy's not coming back, sweetheart."

"I knew that," May admitted quietly. "But how is this different from when she never came back any other time?"

Barley buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook. May didn't ask any more questions.

From what Mr. Carter told her, her mom had gone somewhere called "The beyond".

"She's dead," Carter explained gently, stroking her braids. "Remember when your Hana's mommy went away? It's like that. We won't be seeing her again, I'm afraid. But she'll always watch you, May. She loves you."

"She did?" May asked, surprised. "I thought mommies were supposed to carry you around and make you eat your vegetables and stuff... my mommy never did that."

Her mommy never spoke with her much, often sounding busy and worried. She never protected May from the monsters under the bed - Grandpa had done that. Grandpa had taken her on pony rides, made her eat her vegetables, carried her on his back, done all the things mommies should do.

...Aha!

May had it now. "If that lady was my mommy... why does Grandpa do mommy things? Shouldn't he do Grandpa things?"

"They're Grandpa things, as long as a Grandpa does them," Carter said softly. "And your mommy did love you very much. She just had to take care of you from far away because it was easier to help you that way. Her job was very far from here, but she wanted you to be happy in a safe place." He felt guilty for lying to her, but he'd sooner face punishment for that sin than tell the poor girl that her mommy had died a long time after abandoning her.

May, however, simply took it and smiled, nodding. "I'm very happy here! But Grandpa's really sad..."

"He was your mommy's daddy," Carter explained. "Daddies get sad when they know they'll never see their daughters again. Just be nice to him and tell him you love him. He'll be very happy. But it'll take a while for him to cheer up, okay?"

May's face lit up. "Okay!" she shouted, running over to Barley and hugging his leg tightly. He started, then glanced down at May and smiled. Carter chuckled, slipping into a sigh. Walking over to Barley, he placed a comforting hand on the old man's shoulder and wiped the tears away.

"I know your heart is broken right now. I can only pray for time to heal all wounds, as it does." He hugged Barley. "Never hesitate to let me know if you need something. A prayer, a talk, anything. We're  _all_  here for you."

Barley was unable to form words around the lump in his throat, and he simply nodded and hugged Carter back.

As the years passed, Barley and Carter never did tell May the truth - they couldn't. The happy, well-adjusted girl was blossoming into a sweet and carefree woman before their eyes - the thought of breaking her heart was unbearable.

Barley passed one day, and May, cradling his great-grandson in her arm at his funeral, swept her free hand over the lid of his casket. Her expression was solemn. No tears fell. She wanted to cry, but felt that her grandpa would know, and he'd feel responsible for her tears.

"Thank you for staying with me all these years, Grandpa" she murmured, smiling as she felt Stu's hand rub her shoulder softly. "I hope I made you proud of me. I hope I'll continue to make you proud of me."

The baby began to shift and fuss, and May shushed him softly. "Mommy's here, honey, Mommy's here... but we need to say bye-bye to Grandpa now, okay?" She kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the top of the casket. "Bye-bye, Grandpa..." She looked upward and sighed. "Bye, Mom. You and Grandpa take care of each other." She smiled softly and turned to Stu, nodding. "I think I'm ready to go."

"You're strong, kiddo, you know that?" Stu murmured as he escorted his wife and child out of the church. "You're really something."

May looked back over her shoulder, wistful. "I had help from the best."


	4. Faeries

Sasha squeezed her husband's hand as they made their way down the quiet, snowy streets of Mineral Town that Christmas Eve. Karen had fallen asleep - as had most of the town - and, with no presents left to wrap, the two shop owners had seen fit to slip outside and take in the sights.

Some of the houses were bedecked with holly, wreaths, and glittering garland. Little dots of colored Christmas lights blinked and fluttered in the soft breeze, like Yuletide faeries. At the inn, smoke curled from the chimney, and a warm amber glow lit the windows.

It never failed to take their breath away, no matter how long they'd lived there.

"The moon is beautiful tonight," Jeff said quietly, his face reddening as he looked at his wife. "Don't you want to just lay back and watch it move across the sky?"

Sasha nodded, laughing a bit when she saw him blush. "You're so nervous, Jeff! Why? I think that by now, you'd know I'll watch the moon with you if you want."

Jeff chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, fiddling with his scarf. "It just... brings back memories, dear, that's all."

Sasha felt her own face grow warm. They'd had their first kiss by Mother's Lake, years and years ago, during the Moon Viewing Festival. Her spine still tingled with delight when she recalled the feeling, no matter how many times she kissed her husband. She felt Jeff's eyes on her, and she grabbed his hand silently and led him off to the west.

"Honey, why are we heading to Jack's place? He's probably asleep by now... is something wrong?"

"No, not there," Sasha whispered back as they crunched silently through the snow. As they started to pass through the farm, they found that Jack, in fact, was wide awake... with his wife.

"Oh! Umm... hi!" Jack and Mary pulled apart, their cheeks pink, Mary giving a little squeak of embarrassment and burying her face in Jack's chest. "Ha... err... so... what's up?"

"Sasha stifled a giggle and clapped her hands over her mouth, while Jeff simply looked mortified. "Jack, we're so,  _so_  sorry! We really didn't mean to - I mean - we were just going to Mother's Hill, and - I'm so sorry, Mary!"

"I... it's okay," Mary responded, her voice muffled beneath Jack's windbreaker. "Happy Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Clark."

"Oh! Right! Merry Christmas to both of you!" Sasha called as she hurried Jeff along. "Terribly sorry, you guys just go on, we won't bother you again-"

"No biggie!" Jack called, waving after them. "Merry Christmas! C'mon, Mary, let's head back inside, I don't want you to catch a cold," they heard him murmur, as they made it to the river at the far side of the farm.

Once they were safely past the hot springs and out of earshot, Sasha and Jeff looked at each other in silence for a moment, then collapsed into silent laughter.

"I... feel so bad... for that!" Sasha wheezed, trying to keep quiet. "I didn't think they'd-"

"Be like us?" Jeff chuckled. "You know, we could've just gone the long way... I like walking through the forest..." His expression turned curious. "So where were we going?" They were at the bank of Mother's Lake, and memories began to flood them both, filling their bellies with butterflies that had never really left.

She'd brought him up here to gaze at the moon and the stars, but seeing Jack and Mary kissing had ignited a bit of a fire in Sasha, and she placed a finger to Jeff's lips. "Here will be just fine. Since it's Christmas now, I think it'll be fine if you get one of your presents right here."

Jeff's heart beat faster. He was no fool - it was highly likely his present would be very similar to the scene they'd just interrupted. "You know, I was thinking of giving you the same present I think you're thinking of giving me..."

"I think you're thinking right," Sasha responded cheekily, grinning. "C'mere, you little goon." The two wrapped each other in a tight embrace, their lips meeting for a hungry, deep kiss. Their hands, though clad in thick gloves, began to wander over parts of their bodies that they'd be exploring further in a little while. When they pulled apart, their breathing was labored, and they were both grinning broadly - at the moment, and the fleeting memories rushing through them.

"You know, they say you can't recapture a magic moment," Sasha said, panting, as she finally got her breathing under control. "But I think we did alright, don't you?"

Jeff's face reddened again, but he nodded all the same. "I felt it."

"Along with my boobs." As her husband looked down and rubbed the back of his head, smiling in embarrassment, Sasha laughed and pulled him in for another quick kiss. "So... Jeff... do you wanna just lay back and watch the sky tonight? Or..." She grinned devilishly. "Would you like to go home and finish opening your present?"

Jeff pulled her closer and ran a gloved hand down to the small of her back, the other caressing her face gently. A soft fire burned in his gaze. "Can't we do both right here?" he asked, a bit shyly, as he smelled her peppermint breath washing over his face.

Sasha breathed in the clean scent of the cold night air, and pressed her body against her husband's. "I like the way you think."


	5. Blue

Lillia Aberlen never wanted to admit to anyone -  _anyone_  - that sometimes, she preferred to be sleeping alone. That with or without Rod there beside her at night, she always felt like she was sleeping alone either way. It wasn't that Rod didn't care about her health - he'd vowed, after all - but Lillia and he had both felt it, without either ever saying it - love had faded. They still cared - they couldn't not care. But it had faded into something more like a friendship.

He'd grasped Anna's suggestion of the legendary Red Magic flower almost immediately. Lillia knew he still wanted to help her - he wasn't heartless - but, as she'd seen him off that night, they both knew that their time as husband and wife was unofficially over. Their gazes had communicated a shared understanding, a dammed-up heartbreak - the complications of the situation, the questions they were silently asking, weren't lost on them.

And as Lillia felt the slight weakness subtly coursing its way through her body in those passing years, she kept her secret well. Rod wrote regularly, checking up on Lillia and the kids - one love that hadn't faded was his love for his children - assuring them that he was fine, and he was doing all he could to help their mother, to never lose hope.

 _Lillia, I know how hard it is. Your patience and understanding are more than I deserve. Even if it takes my life, I'll help you,_ he would write, and all those memories would come rushing back to Lillia - stolen kisses behind the chicken coop, playful fights by the flower bed - and she would wonder where it all went. And her bones would be wracked with agony.

Her troubles were further compounded when the shipper began to check in on her. He bought her medicine - despite her constant protests - when she couldn't scrape the money together to do so herself. He stayed by her side and helped her and her children with household duties on days when she was in too much pain to do little more than lay in bed and cry when she wasn't asleep. He would listen to her, tell her that she was amazing, that she was wonderful, that he knew a woman so strong would definitely pull through this, that he would always help her.

He was the first one to learn her secret. She'd told him after she'd kissed him one misty summer evening, too overcome with her ever-growing love for him to control herself.

"You're married," he'd protested. "Lillia, I know you miss Rod, but-"

"It's..." She'd sighed. "Zack, come inside... it's okay, I promise. But it's a bit of a lengthy explanation..."

His expression softened as she told him, and he squeezed her hand gently. "I never knew... does anyone else know?"

"It would break the childrens' hearts," Lillia responded, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I should have controlled myself, but... I guess I've complicated things some now." She looked into his eyes. "Would you forgive me?"

He kissed her hand in response. They kept their interactions cordial after that night, but Lillia's condition seemed to only get worse in turn.

It was early October when Rod decided to bring it out in the open. It had only taken a simple letter from Lillia:

_We need to tell them.  
_

Rick and Popuri were torn to shreds when they learned their parents were divorcing. "It's too hard... it isn't fair to either of us," Lillia had reasoned, while Popuri wailed and Rick seethed in quiet anger. "Rick... don't hate us, please. Your father and I... we'll still be friends..."

"Why can't you be our  _parents_?" Rick snapped, punching the wall. "We haven't had our whole family together in years... you're gonna tell me that's a thing of the past?"

"We'll always be your parents, Rick." It was all she could say. Popuri bounced back within mere days, though a bit quieter than usual - but it took a week of letting Rick cool off, and quietly coaxing him, to get him to come to terms with the ordeal. "He's still going to help me," she'd whispered soothingly, rubbing his shoulder, concealing her doubt at her own reassurances. He'd  _try_  to help her, she knew that much - but whether or not he actually ever could... whether anyone could...

And there was the matter of Zack...

It was on a quiet November morning that Lillia found herself outside, gazing dreamily at the soft blanket of flowers rippling on the farm across from hers. Jack was a sweet man, and he always planted such wonderful things. As her eyes wandered over the rich, royal blue tones spreading across the field, her mind drifted to Zack. Maybe now, it would be okay to move on. Maybe they wouldn't have to hide their feelings, keep secrets... maybe today would be the perfect day to red-

 _Red?_  Lillia blinked hard and shook her head, wondering where the odd thought had barged in from. A bit confused, but blaming it on the brief disorientation her medicine always left her with, Lillia turned her gaze back to the flowers. Just as she started to settle on thoughts of Zack once more, however, it caught her eye - and her mind.

Red.

Red flowers. Red Magic flowers. Rare, red flowers... so rare amongst their blue brethren, they were said to only bloom once a century. They were legendary, renowned for their extraordinary medicinal properties...

Beautiful, rare red flowers...

Lillia felt her spirits soar. For the first time in fifteen years, her body felt light as air, her veins flooded with energy as she gazed upon those beautiful red flowers. They wouldn't put everything back together again... they might not even put anything back together... but as Lillia shouted excitedly for her children to come outside and look, she felt that maybe today, her hope would spring fully back to life.


	6. Night

"I really need you right now... I'm going to need you more than I have before." The words felt odd, squeezing through his tightened throat and slipping out in a halting, quivering cadence. He wasn't used to this feeling. It was too raw for him. Too lucid. But, he reasoned, it was better than the alternative.

Manna Lipschitz nodded firmly, squeezing her husband's shoulder before drawing him into a tight hug.

"Whatever it takes," she whispered into his ear, trying to keep her own voice steady. "I'm here, Duke. I'm not going away, alright?"

Duke drew in a deep breath, and the sigh that followed was rattling. Still, his nerves were calmed somewhat. "Manna..."

"It's okay," she assured him. Their dark eyes searched each other, finding hope and trust there that they hadn't seen in nearly ten years. "I know it'll be hard. But I'm here for you.  _Everyone_  is here for you."

Duke nodded slowly, then sank down into his armchair slowly. "Will... you and Cliff be able to handle the business on your own for this? You know how to make- "

"Of course," Manna interrupted, sitting down next to him and placing a hand on his knee. "If you need us to take care of it... if you need to just get away for a bit, stay at the inn, anything like that – whatever it takes, Duke. I know you can do this."

Duke mumbled a quiet thanks, and they sat in companionable silence for a while, before heading to bed.

It had been only a few nights ago when Manna had discovered Duke laying in an unconscious heap at the bottom of their stairs – he'd been lucky enough to do little more than bruise his body up considerably, but Manna had still been frightened out of her wits.

She still shuddered as she recalled trying to shake her husband awake well past midnight, taking note of the heavy smell of wine radiating off of him in waves. He'd been going to hide the bottles, which were scattered on the stairs – some whole, some in pieces.

The next morning, they'd had one of their biggest fights since their only daughter had run away.

" _I'm alive, right?_ " Duke had roared indignantly, but Manna's shrill screeching rose above his booming voice:

"THIS TIME!  _WHAT IF IT HAPPENS AGAIN? Will you be so lucky next time?"_ Her words had come out thicker and thicker as she had struggled to keep from crying. "What if the first thing Aja hears from us in  _ten damn years_  is that her father died from some  _stupid_  accident because he was _drunk_!  _Do you want your daughter to remember you that way_? IS THAT THE WAY YOU WANT  _ME_  TO REMEMBER YOU?"

Duke had looked as though he'd been punched in the gut as Manna's words socked him deeper than they ever had before. His severe hangover seemed to slowly roll out like fog as realization swept in. His bloodshot eyes had grown oddly shiny.

"I don't want you to die, Duke," Manna whimpered, fighting to keep her voice steady and get her emotions under control. A tear still trickled down her cheek. "You might think I'm nagging you... but... please, don't keep killing yourself." Her words had shrunk to a whisper. "Please. I'm begging you."

"I've–I'm– " Duke's words and movements had become jerky, his voice hoarse and thick. He had staggered towards Manna, his legs feeling like they each were made of stone, and wrapped her in a hug. The dam broke, and the two had cried in each others' arms.

When they'd calmed down some, Duke had started swaying Manna softly, as if dancing with her, and murmured, "I'll do it. No matter what it takes or how long, I'll do it for you." He had kissed the top of her head, which was resting on his chest. "I'm sorry, Manna... I'm so sorry... I'll make this right. I swear on it..."

Manna had looked up at him, a wobbly smile on her lips. " _We'll_  make this right. I won't let you go through this alone."

_ \------------------------ _

A month later, on one cool September night, Duke sat at the bar at the inn, idly tracing patterns in the mist clouding up his glass of pumpkin juice. Duke had told Doug to break his fingers if he tried to order anything alcoholic, and though the two men had outwardly taken it as a silly little joke, both of them were secretly taking the request to heart.

"One whole month so far, huh?" Doug Hall asked, spraying the countertop and wiping it down. "I'm proud of you, Duke." Though his voice was gruff and curt, Duke could detect the warmth in his best friend's compliment, and allowed himself a small smile.

"Thanks, Doug... It just gets scary, though, you know? Trying to build up all this resistance. It's just... what if I–"

"Don't," Doug said, cutting Duke off. "One day at a time. That's how they all do it, right? Who're you doing it for? Just... picture them. No matter how hard it is, whatever you're going through, just put that person at the front of your mind. Make them your drive to succeed." His eyes softened, and Duke knew Doug wasn't just talking about Manna and Aja.

Duke nodded, and downed his juice in one gulp. "You're right..." Then he chuckled. "You know, Manna's birthday is coming up, and she told me that this was all she wanted from me. You think I should ask Saibara to quit on those earrings while he's ahead?"

"Sure, if you wanna piss him off," Doug replied, laughing. Then he checked the clock hanging on the far wall. His eyes followed the rhythmic swinging of the plastic cat's tail for a few seconds, before he shook his head. "Five till ten. Sorry, Duke, but this is gonna have to be an early night."

"No problem." Duke groaned and heaved himself off of the barstool, clapping Doug on the shoulder. "Thanks again, Doug. Catch you later."

"You too," Doug grunted, picking up Duke's glass and wiping the counter where it had been sitting. "Keep at it. You're doing fine."

Duke thanked him once more, and headed into the warm night. He'd been staying with Gotz and Louis in the forest for the past few weeks, telling Manna that he wanted to be sure he could trust himself to stay in control around the wine stock before he felt like he could go back home. Still, they visited each other frequently. She looked a bit strained and lonely, but Duke could see the love in her eyes and hear the encouragement in her voice whenever they were together.

_I won't let you go through this alone._

_I'll do it for you._

_I really need you right now..._

His and Manna's words kept looping in his mind, now joined by Doug's.  _Make them your drive to succeed._

It felt odd, sometimes, like being in a groggy state. Like he hadn't fully woken up yet. But as each day inched by, and he painstakingly fought back the cravings, more and more of his mind awakened. It was almost unbearable at times, yet still – somehow – a bit liberating at the same time.

He knew it wouldn't be a perfect road. It would likely be long, steep, and twisting. He would feel alone, or desperate, or even despondent every now and then. But Manna and Aja's faces would float to the front of his mind's eye,, and he'd regroup. He'd keep on moving forward – for them.


	7. Remember

Kano Stogan watched glumly as the ocean rippled past before his eyes. His camera swung listlessly in the salty breeze, bumping against his chest occasionally. It was otherwise forgotten.

His fellow traveler, a tan young man clad in a purple bandana, glanced over at him, his head tilted slightly. "So... you're that Kenneth guy, right?"

The reply was curt: "It's  _Kano_ , Kai."

Kai chuckled anxiously, his face going red enough to be seen through his tan. "Whoops! Sorry, I guess you must remember me, but I honestly can't recall much of you." Upon seeing Kano's scowl darken, he quickly added, "Just a bad habit of mine, nothing personal."

Kano shook his head, glaring at Kai. "Save it. It's nothing Kano hasn't heard from the rest of the villagers before, anyway."

The younger man shrugged. "Suit yourself. So, that why you're on this boat? Just got sick of not being noticed?" He smirked. "And next to Mineral Town's most infamous outsider, I guess I can see how it'd sting..."

His traveling companion shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you, Kano wasn't well enough aware of all this as it was. You'd think at least the  _adults_ wouldn't forget the man who did their wedding photos! No, they remember the playboy, the absentee dad, the absentee  _mom_ , the vagabond, the con man - though Kano supposes he can understand that last one - but why the mayor's best friend over people who are  _barely there_?"

Kai scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Hey, man, you want the spotlight? It's all yours! I can't even talk to my best friends without some jerkass butting in and telling me off. I can't even plead my case!"

"At least you're noticed," Kano grumbled. "If anyone notices Kano's left, who's going to talk about him? Who's going to say, 'Yes, this beautiful shot of my grandson was shot by Kano'? 'Yes, that magnificent spread of Mother's Hill in  _World Travels_  was all Kano'?"

"Who's going to say 'Thank god Kano's gone', 'Kano's nothing but trouble', 'Kano is a pervert who wants to destroy my family', 'Kano is lazy and has no work ethic', 'Isn't it time for Kano to leave for that hick town yet'?" Kai countered. "Because I doubt you're gonna have to put up with _that_. Look, you shoot some awesome photos, and I know it sucks that you're not bathing in constant praise over them, but at least you're not getting heaped with criticism from all sides for just  _existing._  At least be glad for  _that_."

The waves lapped against the boat in silence, Kai's words hanging in the air.

"So, why do you go back every year, then?" Kano finally asked, drumming his fingers on the railing. "If it's so bad there all the time, what's the point?"

Kai cleared his throat and murmured, "Compared to how bad things usually are, Mineral Town's pretty nice. It's easier dealing with that kind of hatred from people you can just dismiss, you know?"

"Hmm. I guess you have a point..." Kano shook his head. "But, no matter. I think... maybe it's time for Kano to move on from there anyway. You stay somewhere for twenty years, you photograph just about all there is to see... I wouldn't mind some new scenery to work with. And maybe I can get to know a woman who's actually single."

Kai grinned. "Let me guess, you're embarrassed about going back because you had a really melodramatic goodbye? Stormed off in a huff?" He leaned towards Kano and waggled his eyebrows. "Gave one of the housewives a little nine-month memento?"

It was Kano's turn to go red, now. "Nothing of the sort! Kano is no adulterer, I assure you! I simply left Thomas a letter." He sighed. "A very huffy, melodramatic letter."

A moment of silence passed before both men burst out laughing loudly. Once Kano got his laughter back under control, he waved his hand and chuckled. "Nonetheless, I suppose I could always return to visit. Maybe they'll ask Kano where he's been?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That would be nice..."

"Look, I'll make you a deal," Kai said. "You promise to come back and visit during the summer, I bitch and moan till I'm blue in the face about how I miss having an awesome photographer to capture all the weddings and births, and the fireworks, and the chicken sumo stuff, and me cramming a tomato in Rick's face." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Man, I must have a hundred copies of that one stashed in my wallet."

Kano smiled. "Guilt-tripping them into missing me? Kano likes it." He stuck out his hand, and Kai shook it. "Deal. And don't forget..."

"Geno, right?"

Kano's frustrated scream and Kai's uproarious laughter crashed together above the sound of the waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next words, for the moment, will be "Snow", "Music", and "Devil".


	8. Music

The cicadas hummed and chirped their cacophonous racket in the sweltering July air, thick and heavy under the pressure of the blazing sun.

For Greg Bateson, being awake to sweat out this hellish afternoon was an unusual occurrence. "Bat's son," he used to joke to his wife. "See? They knew I'd be nocturnal!"

"They knew you'd be full of it," she'd crack back, swatting him with a kitchen towel. "Well, let's get those fish cleaned and slapped on the stove, honey..."

Ruby invaded his thoughts more and more often as the years went by... nearly fifteen since she'd left him. The bobbing of the lure in the sea made him think with a sly smile of the way her generous hips would shimmy when she walked; the gentle waves played the music they danced and made love to; the stars that twinkled late at night made him think of her vitality, her vibrancy...

...The moon, as it shifted calmly through its phases as per usual, played the advancement of her illness over and over again. A looping movie spread across years, reminding him of his own mortality in his advanced age...

A tug at the line caught his attention.

"First of the day!" he crowed victoriously, cranking the reel with practiced ease as he pulled the fresh trout in from the brilliant, sparkling depths of Mother's Lake. "Well, hello there, beautiful!"

From beside him, his companion chuckled, letting his own fishing pole drop slightly. "I suppose lunch is on you, hmm?"

Cracking a broad smile at the placid pastor, Greg shook an admonishing finger. "Who said we're done yet, kiddo? It's only ten! Just cause most of em went to sleep doesn't mean some of em aren't waking up, right?"

Carter couldn't argue that point. With a smile and a slight grunt, he cast his line back into the lake as Greg tossed his prized catch into the very empty burlap sack behind them. "I wouldn't know," he admitted with a shrug. "I've never quite gone fishing before, myself..."

"Got one heck of a teacher, I assure you," Greg responded proudly, making his own cast. The two men shared a quick smile.

Deciding to test more intangible waters, Carter chose his next words carefully - and slowly: "It is great to finally see the teacher come out of retirement..."

Quiet. A soft breeze rustled the grass, playing accompaniment to the freestyle birdsong pecking about the thick, resilient summer air. Greg's eyes were closed in thought, though his smile still remained etched onto his weathered face.

"Guess I had to sometime..."

"Nobody wants the ones they love to grieve until their dying day," Carter reminded him gently. "She certainly wasn't a selfish one."

Giving a soft, dry chuckle, Greg shook his head. "You don't know the half of it... but, see, I was okay for a while. Just fishing the night away, watching the sunrise, and-" His confession was interrupted by another catch, this time on Carter's line. "Hey, now! Looks like you've got your own lunch, buddy!"

Grunting with the exertion of trying to pull in his catch, Carter grit his teeth, even more sweat beading on his forehead to join the flood already soaking into the collar of his white polo shirt - wearing his clerical clothing to such a casual outing seemed, conceptually, almost as foreign as the casual clothing felt on him in the first place.  _Practicality wins out,_ he'd thought, debating the heat.

After Greg helped him yank the small - but lively - fish from the waters, the two men exchanged a quick high-five before tossing the catch into the burlap sack, where it would wriggle with the other.

"Something kind of exciting about building up the catches in a new time of day," Greg admitted, wiping his brow. "Feels new."

"Been a while since you moved around in the daytime, eh?"

"A while, nothing! Decades! I was a batman well before Ruby and I..." Shaking his head with a sigh, Greg returned to his own fishing rod, eyes firmly to the water now. "Well, never mind that. Least I'm moving on some, right?"

The hesitation in his voice didn't go amiss - Carter simply sat and waited for him to tackle the nagging subject. Greg usually did before long.

"But-" Ah, right on cue, "-but the thing is... you know... I kind of want to move on in another way, too..."

Carter nodded, understanding the situation entirely, another heart grieving for lost love. "Or rather, move back? She certainly remembers you quite fondly."

"Mmm." Chuckling quietly, Greg tapped his feet on the ground. "See, I know she's been through it too. It's just... would Ruby feel mad? Betrayed? You know? I gave her the same thirty-six years she gave me. Wouldn't trade them for anything..."

"If it were her," Carter proposed, "in your shoes, what would you want for her? For her to continue on, to embrace new love and happiness, knowing full well she'd never forget or tarnish the memories of what you shared?"

The old angler stared at the ground. "Course. Guess... maybe I just want to hear someone else say it's okay." He glanced up at Carter with a slight smirk. "I mean, I should know better. Kinda do, in fact." His thin shoulders slumped with a sigh. "...Besides, I'm sure she'd approve of Ellen. Sweet woman, then and now."

"Indeed..."

As the afternoon wore on, the pastor and the angler lapsed into more casual chatter, pulling the occasional fish from the water - Greg promising to save "just a few, maybe half" to make "the best damn feast she's ever seen". Tonight, he would invite Ellen to dinner. It wouldn't be quite the same - as with Ruby, or even as with Ellen in their younger days - but the thought of rekindling the old flame had sparked a small lick of hope inside him as well.

Perhaps it would be the true beginning of his so-called golden years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy frijoles, I left this one sitting around FOREVER. Work, illness, exhaustion, depression, lack of inspiration, focusing on my other stories... you name it, it kept pushing me back from working on this. All I knew then and now was that I wanted Greg to be the focus (and being such a hard-to-find, minor character in Back to Nature, he's rather hard to write for), and I wanted to include a bit of shipping for him and Ellen (I think they'd be adorable together, personally). This block of cheese is the result. (Well, it IS primarily a writing exercise.)
> 
> Anyway... "snow" and "devil" are the only two left. I'm sorry to say, I won't be taking anymore word requests for this one. Two more, and it's done. I can't promise when they'll come up, but they WILL. Dammit. Anyway, thanks to those who've left feedback or kudos thus far. Feel free to leave a review, if you want, and I'll see you sometime in "devil".


	9. Devil

"Mmmhmm... rare indeed. You say, you found it on the summit?"

Won's winning smile hitched only for the briefest of seconds, wiped away by his firm and confident nod. "Indeed, sir. A most beautous specimen, would you not say? Only spoken of in legends! You see, this bee produces not only royal jelly, but...  _ambrosia jelly._ Jelly of... of the gods!"

The silence plopped down awkwardly between the two men, laced with pleasant birdsong in the April breeze. Louis smacked his lips thoughtfully as he eyed the mason jar, a gloved hand caressing it with unnerving tenderness.

"Legend, you say, boy? Mmm... thought I'd heard 'em all... all there is to know." Eyes hidden behind his thick, opaque glasses, he cocked his head. "You're sure?"

Won's smile slipped again. The old kook was more skeptical than he'd hoped for. "It... it's Chinese legend," he supplied weakly. "The, uh. The... Chinese government... censored it. You know how they are. I - I could be shot for even telling you! I bet they're watching me right now!"

Louis looked up from his observation of the irate, gorgeous creature buzzing around frantically in the jar. He loved the beautiful determination and desperation. A strong, vigorous bee! But, only one to make the jelly... "Feisty little devil, aren't you," he cooed, breath fogging up the glass. He missed Won recoiling in disgust. "But... most unusual. I'd say it resembles a hornet."

"Th-they are commonly mistaken for one another!" Won interjected, sweat rolling down his forehead. "Most unfortunate, wouldn't you think?"

Louis's voice was low, breathy, filled with utter lust. "Dangerous... may I?" he added, motioning to the jar. "I want to look... closer..."

Fighting back the urge to groan and grimace, Won thrust the jar into the mad apiologist's hands. "Be my guest, sir."  _It's over. He knows bugs like Mr. Duke knows cigars._

"How much were you asking, then?"

Jolted from his worries, Won's eyes flashed greedily as they shot back to Louis, who was now staring impassively at him. "Oh, for you, sir? A special discount for a special friend, of course, of course!"

"...Don't believe we've ever spoken before today..."

"Only one thousand G!" Won continued, speaking over his 'friend's' mumbling. "Why, with the profit you would make from the jelly, it's a steal! You could buy that solid gold house you always wanted...  _in the Valley_ ," he added with a sly wink.

"Never was much for flagrant displays of wealth..." Louis muttered. His spectacles flashed dangerously as he peered into the mason jar at the specimen. "I could have  _fun_  with you, my sweet... my pet. My darling.  _Breed_ you!"

"There... there's only the one bee, sir," Won muttered, holding up a finger to stop the rambling researcher - to no avail.

"-Rain fire from the heavens. An army! A beautiful, mad army the likes of which even HELL has never seen! Covering the world in dark sweetness, perfection, with  _me_  as your  _God!_ " Fist clenched and raised in glorious wonder as he beheld the powerful future before him, Louis let out a strangled cry of laughter. " _They'll all pay!"_

 _Son of a bitch._ "S... siiiiir..." Won began slowly, making a soothing gesture with his hands, and attempting to back away as subtly as possible, "calm down. Be... be rational."

"...Did you say  _bee_?" Louis hissed excitedly, licking his lips as his opaque gaze snapped onto Won like a motion-sensing turret gun. "Yes... many bees..."

"You don't want to cover the world in hornets," Won reasoned, letting a hissed Mandarin curse slip out as he realized his mistake only too late. He'd poked the proverbial nest. Angered the crazy man. If he escaped with all four limbs, he'd call it a blessing.

"Who's covering the world in hornets?"

The disapproving voice, normally a source of potential amusement for Won, shot the oily salesman's hopes up exponentially. "Sir Constable!" he cried, latching onto the approaching Harris like a barnacle. "How wonderful to see you!"

"Get off of me," Harris grunted, trying to pry Won's arms from around his waist. "Jesus. You're like a vise. What's the meaning of all this, Mr. Tu?! ...Mr. Larrieux," he added, nodding politely at Louis.

"Fine afternoon," Louis called back, tipping his safari hat in Harris's direction. "Out for a stroll, then?"

"I  _was..._ "

"And  _I_  was just about to apologize to Mr. Larrieux," Won piped up, unlatching himself from the disgruntled constable and turning to bow deeply in Louis's direction. "It would seem I may have made a mistake, sir. You may be right in that the specimen I've captured is a common hornet, and not the legendary ambrosia bee of Xiang Zhou. I should trust the expert, after all!"

"Shooby-doo-what now?" Harris sputtered, scratching his head in confusion.

Won chuckled nervously, sidling up cautiously to Louis and quickly snatching the mason jar from his hands. "Oh, nothing. Just a little worldly culture swap between friends, Mr. Harrison, sir!"

"I didn't tell him anything," Louis said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. Shrugging, he clapped his hands together. "Now, then! All is forgiven, my boy. We all make mistakes... and we all  _pay_  for them when the wise and dangerous men of the world  _rise up and CRUSH-"_

He broke off into chuckles as Won suddenly sped off, shrieking a quick apology and dropping the mason jar behind him. It rolled around feebly in the grass, the agitated hornet silently swearing vengeance from within its prison.

Laughing, Harris picked up the jar and handed it to Louis, the two men shaking hands. "Maybe this'll scare him straight, eh?"

"Perhaps..." Louis peered at the jar. "Perhaps I should set this little beauty loose on him, though..."

Harris groaned and smacked a hand over his eyes. "Let's... not do that, Louis. You helped me enough."

Waving off the praise, Louis shook his head. "A pleasure, a pleasure. Fine way to spend a free afternoon. Now, I would say lunchtime is approaching. Would you care to join me and Gotz for tea and soup?"

Harris snorted. "Gotz drinks  _tea?_ "

"I make him." Louis smiled a small smile beneath his bushy, white moustache. "Sometimes. A fellow must have some culture! I refuse to house a barbaric ruffian!"

"...It's  _his_  cabin."

As the two men made their way down Mother's Hill for Gotz's cabin, Louis stopped, ushering Harris on ahead. "We shall rendezvous at the appointed meeting place shortly. Go. I must free our prisoner."

Rolling his eyes, Harris waved, and set off down the path as Louis turned, hunched over the jar. Fingers trembling, he unscrewed the lid, the livid insect shooting straight out into the trees.

"Don't forget, my sweet," Louis whispered fiercely, shedding a tear. "Someday, I shall appoint you my general! We will fight together as brothers, and bring this  _damn world_  to-"

"Louis, c'mon!"

Louis saluted wordlessly to the forest into which the hornet had flown, before turning and ambling off after his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, surprisingly! A hectic second half of the year, coupled with my external hard drive crashing (and me, like a goon, not having anything stored on my MAIN hard drive), as well as getting a new hard drive, gradually recovering things I'd lost... well, I finally got a bit of the writing bug back in me, and best to start with something simple, right? I love writing Won and Louis, and since I've been focusing on lesser-written characters recently, figured I'd keep at it.
> 
> Well, thanks to all who have read and followed and left feedback thus far! And thanks to Silverflower8910 (of Fanfiction.net) for the suggestion of "Devil". Well, eventually, we'll see the final chapter - "Snow". I'll see everyone there!


	10. Snow

Soon, the icicles would begin to drip, drip, drip into nothing. They would glimmer in the sunlight until it swallowed them hungrily.

Soon, the grass would rise from beneath its white blanket, stretching, waiting out the later risers.

Soon, the trees would play host once more to leaves and flowers.

Soon, once again, Gotz would hear the distant, excited chatter of the villagers around the late evening, as they made their slippery, crunchy way up to the summit of Mother's Hill to await the first sunrise of the new year. Flashlight beams would wobble and bounce around on the snow, off the mountain walls, and the occasional stray beam would shimmer in the light of the ever-flowing waterfall.

As always, he would watch curiously, cautiously, from the warmth and comfort of his cozy wood cabin, listening to the crackling of the fire in his hearth. He could barely make out the dimly-lit silhouettes bustling along the two different paths past his cabin, past the bare-branched little forest he nestled in.

Sometimes, he would see himself out there - once more, running frantically up the path, in but a t-shirt, jeans, and boots. He'd hear his panicked shouts for Sara and Marcy, feel his heart drop as he saw the tiny, blue-tinged hand of his daughter sticking out from a snowbank-

"They wouldn't want you to stay cooped up in here forever, though."

This year, however, Thomas Harrison sat comfortably on Gotz's couch, nursing a steaming mug of coffee. With a great sigh that ruffled his bushy moustache, he stirred in another lump of sugar, blowing on the still-hot surface. His eyes met Gotz's face, turned away and resting thoughtfully on a large, beefy hand.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

Drumming the fingers of his other hand on his armchair, Gotz shifted slightly. The chair creaked. "Not that easy, Mayor..."

Thomas shook his head, shrugging. "Who said it would be? You were here when Elma died. Harris had to run things in this town for three years before I took any initiative again!" He frowned. "I don't think he ever even took the time out to mourn for her properly..."

Biting back the urge to tell Thomas that half of Mineral Town felt Harris still ran things anyway, Gotz took his words in nonetheless. "What did you do? How did you... start?"

"And where did I figure out where to go?" Thomas finished, finally daring a sip of his coffee. With a small yelp, he set it down on the table before him, feebly rubbing his burnt tongue against his teeth. "Oh, dear me. It took a bit of prodding... from friends."  _And family_ , he left unsaid. "Sometimes we just have to go back to the way things were... and just adjust ourselves to what's changed. You know. 'Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow.'"

Gotz smiled beneath his thick, scraggly beard. "From now on, our troubles will be out of sight, right?"

Chuckling, Thomas nodded. "Nobody ever said it would be easy. But we all move on. We have to... Doug has. Barley has. Ellen has. Elli has. Greg has. I have... and it's not like nothing changed, of course. And it took some of us longer than others. We all grieved in our own ways. Hiding away..."

"I do work for them," Gotz pointed out. "I... go into town to buy some groceries and stuff. And Louis is... err... well, I'm not by myself here, right?"

At the mention of the apiologist's name, Thomas hummed low in his throat. "Ah. Yes. Louis." He shook his head. "Gotz, you used to show up at every festival. We used to see you knocking back a beer or two at the bar at night, after a long day's work. I'm not saying you should be a social butterfly or some such nonsense," he pleaded, leaning forward, "but it's been eight years. Not a festival, hardly a word to anyone you see..."

Gotz grunted. "Worried, huh?" At Thomas's nod, he groaned and shifted his weight in the armchair, pulling himself up. "Yeah... never was much of the hermit type before, I guess. Lemme get my coat."

Thomas smiled as he retrieved his own gloves and hat from the coffee table. "Going to ring in the new year with us, then?"

Buttoning his jacket up, Gotz shrugged, before leaning to grab a pair of gloves from his bed. "Gotta start somewhere, right?"

The mayor nodded, grinning as he followed the lumberjack outside into the moonlit night of quiet, drifting flurries. "Starting small is perfectly peachy!"

"...Don't say it like that."

\------------------------

Soon, the sun would peek out self-consciously over the tops of the distant, snow-capped mountains, ready for its grand entrance.

Soon, the faces of many happy, hopeful, anxious villagers would be bathed in pink, gold, orange, and red hues.

Soon, they would make their silent vows and prayers for the year, for the lives they each hoped to carry out.

Soon, the quiet mountaintop would erupt in cheers.

A pair of newly-reunited, elderly lovers slumbered in their cozy house, far away from the gathering, warm and safe.

A tall blonde woman and her shorter husband stood, arms around each others' waists, smiling contentedly. Their daughter stood nearby, giving a good-natured roll of her eyes as her parents shared a few quick kisses.

A prim, middle-aged brunette clutched her husband's shoulder, receiving a roguish grin and a peck on the cheek in return. She giggled, her cheeks pink.

A resolute-looking man rocked back and forth on his feet, hands jammed into the pockets of his windbreaker. His wife, a full head shorter than he, stood on her tiptoes to ruffle his salt-and-pepper hair, itching to break the hushed silence with excited jabbering.

A slender, sly-looking man with a long black braid flipped a coin, checking the result in his palm - tails. Perhaps trying a little honesty wouldn't be so bad for once...

A large, muscular hulk of a man held on protectively to the slight, pink-haired woman by his side - a woman whose crimson eyes shone with renewed vigor and vitality. A woman whose once-weakened body was becoming gradually less bothered by the biting cold. Her son and daughter stood nearby, with a tanned young man clad in purple. Their grins were wide and childlike.

A gentle, black-haired girl in glasses tenderly held the hand of the anxious young farmer beside her, resting her other hand on her rounded belly. Small silver bands shone on their left ring fingers.

A stooped old man, bundled up in many layers, stroked his long beard as he looked down at his granddaughter and smiled. She was engaged in a playful shoving match with a young boy, whose sister watched happily from the corner of her eye as she whispered something into the ear of a redheaded girl.

The girl's father flicked her braid teasingly, letting out a small laugh when she swatted at him and stuck out her tongue. She let out a small squeak when her grinning boyfriend rubbed a snowball into her hair. A few feet away, a serious-looking, black-haired man chuckled softly and shook his head.

Smirking, a young man with strawberry-blonde hair and ice-blue eyes watched the red glow in the distance gradually grow and lighten. Beside him, his formidable-looking grandfather clapped a hand proudly on his back.

The town pastor, a stocky blonde man, stood at the edge of the summit, smiling to himself as the sun began to rise. Behind him, Thomas hugged a tall, thin, black-haired man, who held a camera, quietly welcoming him back to town. Thomas's son stepped forward to shake the man's hand, giving a small smile.

And as Gotz hung back behind the crowd with a stoic Louis, he saw the mayor beckoning him to join the small crowd of people he'd be getting to know all over again in the coming years. Friends he'd barely spoken to in far too long, and amusing new strangers. Smiling to himself and shaking his head, he ambled forward, just as the man with the camera took the pastor's spot. The sun rose behind him, illuminating the peak of Mother's Hill in a beautiful golden-pink glow.

"On three, everyone! One... two..."

The great cry rose up above the sound of the camera snapping, the flash lost in the dazzling burst of sunlight:

" _Happy new year!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... scene. I'm pretty proud of myself for finally following through and finishing something multi-chapter (well, not counting a two-parter I wrote some years back) for the first time in forever. I was going to wait a bit on this, despite having the rough outline in mind as soon as I finished "Devil". But, we got hit with a lot of ice and sleet (and some snow) recently, and seeing everything frozen over, and white and wintery - a rare occurrence for a southerner like myself - just got me going, even if I got a bit cheesy at the end. Speaking of Frozen, "Vulie" and "The Great Thaw" make excellent writing music for scenes like the sunrise. Give them a try!
> 
> Well, The Harvest Moon Tales Collection is officially finished! Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed, suggested words, read, followed, favorited... I hope you all enjoyed the read! Hopefully, I did the characters justice - especially the lesser-written folks. Hopefully, I did the suggestions and requests justice as well. I'll see you, hopefully, in other fics... but for now, adieu!


End file.
